LOREN
Loren actually smiled—albeit very, very briefly—at the royal proclamation. ”I can support that decree wholeheartedly.” As strange as it might seem for a former duke to say so, the Launceleyn had never cared much for his title. It had usually caused more problems than it was worth. Still, the happiness didn’t last long for either of them as the alchemist spoke about what life had been like with Ronin, with the blight and the guild and the whole being king thing. Mostly the librarian stayed silent, making sympathetic noises where appropriate. When Remi finished, the Launceleyn stayed quiet for a brief moment. ”I’m sorry, Remi. And it’s not selfish.” Or if it was, well, the alchemist had surely earned a bit of that given everything he did for others.Tapping the book in the summoner’s hand against his thigh, he tried to order his thoughts. ”He could always step down. We have two rulers, which is more than most places, so we don't need both. But even if he doesn’t want to do that, he can always ask for help. It doesn’t have to be the two of you. Or, well, three of you, including Wessex.” They surely had considered this already, but it had to be reiterated. ”A lot of the business of running a kingdom is tedious, I’d imagine. So if Ronin doesn’t want to do it, or if the day-to-day becomes too much with the blight, then appoint someone to do the jobs he doesn’t want.” Loren grinned for a fleeting moment. ”I remember how much he hates paperwork. So he should appoint a Steward, perhaps, or whatever you want to call it, to filter what lands on his desk. On both your desks. All three of your desks? Do you even have desks?” Loren waved away that last part to let Remi know he was just musing. Maybe it wasn’t the Launceleyn’s place to be offering this suggestion, but it was plain old common sense. No one man, no matter how well-meaning, and even no one couple, could do everything on their own.
A government was made up of more than that.
The back and forth grew easier with each lightly teasing barb. ”No, definitely compensating.” The summoner followed the alchemist outside, curious to see what surprise the other man had in store. However, whatever the Launceleyn might’ve guessed, it certainly wasn’t what he saw before him.
Remi might’ve been a terrifying sight to behold to most people. But Loren summoned monsters for a living and routinely saw much stranger, more mysterious, and scarier critters than the alchemist turned into. Sure, it was a bit of a shock to see the other man disappear and the mishmash monster appear in his place, but no more so than when the librarian called a hydra or a phoenix into the world. ”Huh. You’ve been holding out on me. How long have you been able to turn into a manticore?” His voice came out completely matter-of-factly; he’d double check his books to confirm, of course, but it was the sort of description one wasn’t likely to forget, what with the people, lion, avian, and scorpion parts all jammed together.
Immediately the summoner started walking in a circle around Remi, inspecting every part, memorizing the image so that Loren could make his own manticore if he had to. ”You stung anything with the tail yet?” He was curious to know if the venom was as potent as the tales said. Completing his lap, Loren turned to face the alchemist, not at all repulsed to see the face on the body of a beast. ”Is this because you’re a hybrid?” Even Loren, with his summoning, only temporarily brought creatures into the world. This seemed to be something more than that.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
